The Domestic Life of Oliver Queen
by Mustardlover16
Summary: Just a few little snapshots of the life Oliver and Felicity made for themselves between season 3 and season 4. Oliver plans to propose and other such cuteness. Fluff. All the fluff.


The minute Oliver decided he was going to propose I saw it written all over his face. Felicity-she's smart, but somehow she didn't read Oliver's face the way I did in that moment. It was probably the wine.

We were at their place, me an Lila. Oliver and Felicity had gone adorably domestic, what with all of Oliver's cooking and all their house making. Oliver looked out of place on the baby blue sofa, the smile on spread across his face was almost too foreign to be real. Of course, it _was_ real. That much was clear.

The day had been a confusing and wonderful combination of entertaining Sara and catching up on Oliver and Felicity's newest encounters in suburbia. After an awesome dinner full of foods I could hardly pronounce and at least three bottles of wine, the baby was down and the four of was were sure to follow soon. We were collectively content to sit in silence in the living room of their house, pleasantly buzzed and feeling full and relaxed in a way we had never experienced in Starling (now Star City).

Felicity was the first one down- her eyes had been drooping for at least an hour before her head finally plopped onto Oliver's shoulder. I remember thinking how this would never have happened if we had still been in Star, and I was just thinking how crazy it was that we were HERE like THIS when I saw Oliver kind of pull Felicity closer to him. Course, Felicity just snuggled in, sleeping though she was, and BAM. That's when it happened. This look came over him. His face became more somber-not sad- just serious. The kind of serious that said _She's the one._

I had watched their whole love drama play out for the past two/three years, and I was buzzed, so my first thought was _God, it's about damn time!_ Honestly.

And Oliver, he just looked at me. And he nodded. And I nodded back, mainly because I was so buzzed I couldn't be sure that I wouldn't slur any congratulations I might be able to think of.

Oliver smiled. I've seen Oliver smile before, course. But this one was with more than just his mouth. It was with his eyes, and his shoulders and his fingers as he smiled down at Felicity. Man, it was awesome. I was happy for them. Genuinely thrilled for my two friends.

"I don't know. God, I Don't know. In some ways, I miss the thrill, and the fulfillment, you know? But really, I don't miss the responsibility. In Starling, I was always expected to save someone's life, stop some catastrophe, avert the next crisis. People's lives were always in my hands. That's a heavy burden. Here, all they expect me to do is keep the flower beds clean, keep tacky yard ornaments off the lawn, buy the secret Santa gift and bring the side dish to the neighborhood barbecue." Oliver sighed, grabbed the now dirty dishes off the table and took them to the sink. Felicity and he had been having a lot of conversations like this one since the moved.

Not that he was upset about that. Sure, talking about his feelings and that sort of thing, that was out of place. And sort of uncomfortable. But it was Felicity and her big blue eyes and her long blonde hair (which she was purposely tugging on, just because she knew he thought it was cute).

"It is a big burden off your shoulders, I get that. I guess I don't really miss broody Oliver, either." She smiled, twirling her hair flirtatiously. This? This is what he had given up a life of criminals and arrows and stitches for. _Worth it._

"I did not brood." He puffed his chest out it mock protest, as if he was insulted.  
"Liar." She smiled at him playfully, and he was proud of himself for the millionth time that. _He_ could make this stunning, inexplicable girl smile a smile that could light up all of Star City.

"You know what I do miss, though, aside from my gorgeous criminal location algorithm?" The proud smile that strutted its way onto her face did nothing to stem his urge to jump over the couch, soapy hands and all, and kiss the daylights out of her.

"I miss the pants. The green leather pants. The _tight_ green leather pants." He smirked, figuring, _what the hell, the sofa can handle a little dishwater._

"Diggle, this is hard. This may be the hardest thing I've ever had to do." His muscular arms were taut, his face a stony mask of indecision.

"I know, man."

Dig was being of no help, and Oliver let him know with a roll of his eyes and an impatient shuffle of his feet. "I'm terrified. Terrified that I won't get it right, that I'll screw something up. I'm putting myself on the line, here, you know?"

Diggle considered his long time friend. This is the man that had had his back through thick and thin. This is the man he proudly called his brother. This is the man who he fought wars with. This was the man he knew to be a good man. Maybe even the best. "Look, Oliver, you know I've got your back. Wherever and whenever."

"Once I do this, there is no going back. Once I propose, I can't go back. You know that, right?" Oliver was spouting out obvious facts. Oliver did not care. Oliver was too busy flipping his-

"I know." Diggle nodded. He and his friend had been through many life changing situations. This was, by far the most important. He put his hand on Oliver's shoulder, hoping it was a reassuring gesture.

And it was then that Oliver voiced the one fear that every man who has ever fallen in love has felt. "What if she says no?"

It was probably the third week after they had moved in. The house was actually starting to look like a house. Bedrooms had headboards, mattresses, dressers and rugs.

The living room was fully equipped. With a 55 inch flat screen plasma TV. And surround sound. And mood lighting. The couch was adorned with throw pillows.

 _Throw pillows._

Oliver had already mowed the lawn twice since they had moved in. Domesticity looked quite good on Mr. Queen, Felicity decided. Though, arguably not as good as green leather.

Anyway, it was the third week, and it was clear to both that while they were pleased to be where they were-to be away from the hubbub and chaos of Starling (Star City, whatever) they did miss the small things.

Big Belly Burger. God. It was a twenty minute drive from where they were. Oliver was

fast, but he was no Barry Allen. Oliver was strong, powerful, but there was not much he could do when she was craving Big Belly Burger and there was traffic.

Plus, Oliver missed his bow. I mean, he had depended on a bow for so long, it was clear to both of them that it had become somewhat of a security blanket for him. It was something he could use to protect himself. He felt vulnerable without it.

Oliver and vulnerable are antonyms, and Felicity liked it that way.

But Oliver was adapting, as always.

And so one day, they were outside, picnicking. Like, legitimate, red checked blanket and a basket full of fresh food and good wine, actual picnicking.

Oliver was sifting through the basket, looking for the grapes Felicity asked for, when he remembered his purchase from three months back. A piece of jewelry which he had meant to give to Felicity as a sort of cheeky birthday present but which had been forgotten in the aftermath of Roy and Ra's.

"Be right back." He leapt up, pecked her on the cheek and dashed into the house. Felicity couldn't help thinking it was just like how he used to whisk away at a moment's notice. _Some things never change._

Oliver was back within a few moments and was feeling extremely cautious. He was pretty sure that she Felicity would like the gift, but they had been trying _so hard_ to put the past behind him. He shook his head, and with it, the thought. She would like this.

Felicity watched him stride back, not a lilt or misstep to be seen. Yet somehow she knew Oliver was feeling unsure. It wasn't in his face-he always had a perfectly unreadable face when it came to these sorts of things. It was just a feeling that she got. So she did what she always did when he needed her. Did what he always did when she was feeling unsteady. She beamed up at him, oozed encouragement.

Oliver sat down indian style, palming a small box wrapped in silver paper. "I got this for your birthday. And then I forgot about it. Which makes me an ass. Forgetting your birthday is an ass-y thing to do." He smiled nervously, avoiding eye contact. "I just… I got it for you and then I forgot. And I just remembered, so… Here."

Felicity took it from him gently, smiling to herself. It was really adorable when he was all flustered and nervous. Especially when it was about something so small it could fit into the palm of her hand. It was so typical of him to find something so small so intensely important.

She unwrapped the box with one swift motion, looked up at Oliver once, wiggled her eyebrows as if to say, "And without further ado…" then opened the box. And laughed.

Felicity laughed, reached into the jewelry box with two fingers and pulled out a cartilage piercing in the shape of an arrow.

"Oliver Queen. I can't believe you, you dork!"

Relief plastered itself all over Oliver's face. "Do you like it?"

"Of course I like it." She exclaimed, reaching to pull out the bar currently residing in the cartilage of her upper ear.

Insistently she pressed the old bar into Oliver's hand and fastened the new one into place. "You are such an incredible dweeb." Felicity muttered, shoving his shoulder playfully.

"I thought," Oliver began, gaining back his confidence, "That it was cute."

"Well, you've been known to be wrong." Felicity sassed.

Oliver crawled forward, face closing in on hers. "When?"

"When I'm right." Felicity challenged Oliver with her eyes. It was a war of the eyes. Blue on blue.

"You're always right." Oliver's lips brushed against hers.

"Ahh, the hypnosis and mind games are working wonders. I've finally gotten you under my spell."

Oliver chuckled. "You've had me under for a long time.

The shop was full of pictures. Pictures of big, white dresses.

Pictures of big, white dresses and 1000 watt smiles and men in tuxedos.

The shop was full of pictures. And the pictures were scaring the crap out of a man who survived a hellish island, countless deaths, Roid Rage soldiers and enough injuries to fill a medical journal.

"Take it from me, Oliver-which one of us has been married before?" Always the voice of reason, Dig could not let Oliver back out of the biggest decision of his life. He had decided to propose, and damned if Dig was going to let him back out.

Oliver, always the voice of negative but unarguable truth, countered cleverly,"Right. And which one of us has been divorced before?" He turned from the counter full of rings to watch Diggle's reaction.

Diggle shook his head and huffed indignantly, "Man, why's it gotta be like that?"

"How the hell am I supposed to tell the difference between all these cuts? And bands? The four C's, Gold, Platinum or Silver, how the hell am I supposed to know?"

In all of his years with Oliver, Diggle had never seen Oliver panic. It was hysterical. Diggle chortled mercilessly.

"Diggle, this is not funny. This is serious. _I don't know what to do._ "

Finally, Diggle took pity on Oliver. "Oliver, look. She is going to like whatever you get. Just look until you find one you like. You'll find it. And when you do, you'll know. Okay? Now chill."

Oliver nodded, relaxing slightly. Diggle couldn't help it. He had to make the most of this. "Besides, it's not Felicity you need to impress. It's her mother."

The look of sheer terror on Oliver's face sent Diggle into a fit of laughter.

 **A/N: God. I love Oliver. I love Felicity. I love** ** _Olicity._** **I love Diggle. I just love Arrow. Please be sure to review and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading! Love you guys!**


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